


if only tonight we could sleep

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26819452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The Skywalker-Solo estate looks cheery on the outside, despite its dark history. The lawns are well-kept, trees and bushes trimmed. The exterior and interior is maintained to immaculate settings as part of one of the town's most legendary properties. As if at any given moment, its previous occupants would come out and greet them, handing candy and treats for the upcoming Halloween.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34
Collections: Anonymous





	if only tonight we could sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!

_“Another one. Please.”_

_“Ben, honey, it's time for bed. No more stories.”_

\---

_“Daddy, don't turn off the lights. I'm scared.”_

_“Nothing to be scared of kid.”_

\---

_“Momma, will you stay with me until I'm asleep?”_

_“I'm sorry, baby. I've got so much work to catch up on. Maybe tomorrow.”_

\---

_“Who are you talking to, sweetie? I heard voices.”_

_“No one.”_

_“It's all right to have an imaginary friend.”_

_“He's not my friend. He tells me bad stuff. I don't like him.”_

_“Well. I'm, I'm not sure what to say to that. Maybe you should make new friends.”_

_“He's the only one that listens.”_

\---

_“Go to your room and think about what you did.”_

_“I won't do it again. I promise. I'll sit in the corner and be quiet. I'll be good. Anywhere but my room. Please, daddy.”_

_“No and that's final. I’ve got to fix this engine. Again. You're just going to distract me. Room now, Ben.”_

\---

_“You never wanted me! You never listen to me!”_

_“That's not fair, Ben. You know your dad and I are busy. But we're doing our best. And it's not like we don't give you anything.”_

_“I don't want things. I want my mommy.”_

_“Ben, you're a little too old to be calling me mommy.”_

_“I don't fucking care!”_

_“Language! Honestly, Ben. What's wrong with you?”_

\---

_“Get away from me!”_

_“Ben! Stop. Calm down.”_

\---

_“My baby… my baby. It's okay… If you wake up, I'll be here this time. It'll be different, I promise...”_

_“Leia, sweetheart, w-we need to…”_

_“He's just sleeping! He’ll wake up! Ben! I swear, I'll listen to you. Talk to me. Please.”_

_“Let him go, Leia. Let him go.”_

\---

The Skywalker-Solo estate looks cheery on the outside, despite its dark history. The lawns are well-kept, trees and bushes trimmed. The exterior and interior is maintained to immaculate settings as part of one of the town's most legendary properties. As if at any given moment, its previous occupants would come out and greet them, handing candy and treats for the upcoming Halloween.

But the house has been empty for over ten years, opening its doors for the occasional tours, fundraisers, and celebrations. Even then, these visits are brief, lasting no longer than a few hours, and limited to the downstairs areas. The grand staircase and all other ways to get to the second floor are always cordoned off and security posted to prevent anyone from wandering further.

Rey is inside for a school trip, learning the history of the town's mayor (city council member back then) and her political start. Rey can't say she doesn't like it. If the outside is beautiful, the inside is just as gorgeous with its rich furnishings and detailed architecture. She isn't the kind of person to be impressed with buildings but if the estate had been her home, she'd never want to leave.

Like all supposed haunted homes, it had a tragic and sordid past. The most recent is of the mayor's only son, who had fallen to his death from the grand staircase. Tumbling end over end to land with a sickening crunch at the bottom. Some say it had been an accident. Others tell a different story.

Ben Skywalker-Solo had been an only child. Quiet, reserved. Few friends to call his own that hadn't been after the prestige of his family’s name. He had loved to read. In the few pictures of him, he looks sad and pensive with his dark eyes and pale complexion. His hair had been long but it softened his generous features. Nose too big and a full pout of pink lips, he could appear a bit comical. But he had been handsome.

Rey thinks her opinion of his appearance is unbiased. Perhaps it's more of the fault with the photographs; that they'd been taken with less advanced cameras. The old fashioned lens giving him a less harsher mien. Though really looking at the mayor and her dashing husband (ex-husband now, Rey thinks with sadness), it'd stand to reason that their son would inherit some of their allure.

The story goes that he'd been troubled with nightmares and voices whispering in his head for all his short life. And that night, he'd awoken the house with his screaming, running from whatever demon chased him. Until he'd tripped and fell down the stairs in an ungainly heap. His parents too frozen and shocked to do much more than watch.

The mayor and her husband had lived in their large, empty home for a couple of months, before quietly divorcing. He had moved far out of state, nearly across the country, and she had thrown her energy and life into politics. Eventually, she's elected mayor. By then, she'd left the house as well, living in a modest one bedroom apartment. She hasn't stepped foot in the house in five years.

Memories too painful to recall, Rey guesses.

Rey glances at the grand staircase as the tour moves into the back rooms behind them, where husband and wife had kept their offices. She hopes Ben had died instantly. To even be breathing after that fall would've been awful.

Rey lingers back to examine the hallway of pictures. Painted landscapes, a wide shot of the mansion in its heyday, a quaint photograph of a beaming mother holding her baby.

“He'd be twenty-five this year.”

“Oh god!” She squeaks at the voice from behind her, spinning around quickly and flattening her back against the wall.

A man with kind blue eyes smiles at her. “Sorry, guess I should've made more noise.”

“It's okay,” she says, attempting to will her heart down into her chest where it belongs. “I shouldn't be here. I mean, I'm with the tour. For school. But I, um, got distracted by the pictures.”

“Ah.” The man nods. “Do you like it so far?”

“The tour?” He nods again. She continues with a shrug. “It's okay. It's a house and it's got history, you know. Kinda sad about the…” Her hands come up to gesture absently in the air. “…the family.”

“Very sad,” he agrees solemnly.

“You said he'd be twenty-five” She asks, tilting her head. “Did you know him?”

“I was his uncle.”

“Oh! Oh gosh.” She can't keep her face from blushing or her heart from pounding. Or from shaking his hand like a lunatic. “You're Luke Skywalker. I'm, like, your biggest fan. Maybe not biggest. But you were the one who got me started in photography. Hometown nobody does good and all that. I made my own camera obscura using the schematics from yours. You're a genius behind the lens!”

“You haven't been huffing the mercury, have you?” He says, chuckling and extracting her clammy hands away from his.

She barks a laugh. “Because of the—no! Not at all. I just built it for fun. I have a better camera. Not as good as yours, I'm sure.” She glances at the pictures on the wall, eager for a distraction from her babbling lips. “Did you take all these?”

“Most of them, yeah.” He taps the mother and son picture. “I took this just after Ben was born.”

“He's very cute. As a baby. And! As a teenager too.” Her brain stalls for a half-second, then restarts. “But not like, I'm into dead people or anything. If he were alive, I'd totally…be way too young for him.” She can't get herself to stop talking and she's positive her face is making cringeworthy expressions. “Because he's twenty-five or he would be if he hadn't. Um. I'm just going to wait outside for everyone.”

“That would seem best,” Luke says with a twinkle in his eyes. “Or I could take you on a private tour.”

“Really? That's so cool, Mr. Skywalker. I would be honored. Do you think we could check out the upstairs? I'm really interested to see if they've been maintained as well as the rest of the house.”

“Please, call me Luke.” He smiles as he links their arms. “I'm afraid the upstairs is off limits, however, even to me.”

“Oh.”

He's lying, but she's too excited once they start, lulled by his voice colored with fond memories. By the time she rejoins the school tour, she's all but forgotten about the look of utter terror in his eyes regarding the upstairs.

\---

Rey feels absurd. Not in her costume: a hand-crafted rag dress and meticulous make-up to make her look like Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas. The feeling of absurdity is from standing, once again, behind the gated driveway of the estate and being dared to go beyond the stairs.

“Come on, Rey,” Poe cajoles in his ridiculous orange and white costume. Is he supposed to be a ball? “Should be easy for you.”

She'd rather be pigging out on her haul right now. She rolls her eyes and sighs, “Just because I know how to pick a lock, doesn't mean there isn't alarms. I can't bypass those.”

“There isn't any,” Poe says. “Used to be, but they kept going off. Almost like someone was still there.” He hunches and wiggles his fingers, moaning, “Wooo!”

“You're stupid.”

Finn laughs, then chokes on a candy corn. Serves him right. Those things are the devil. Rey thumps him hard on the back and the half-chewed, slightly slimy candy sails out of his mouth to land at Poe’s feet.

“That's gross, Finn,” Poe says with a grin. “Anyway, I asked for a king-sized Snickers from the Hux house and you know they only give out apples. Finn had to kiss Phasma on the lips--”

“With tongue!” Finn interjects.

“Right, tongue. It's your turn, Rey.”

“I could've kissed Phasma on the lips. She'd probably have preferred it.”

“Hey!”

“Aww, it's cool, Finn. Phasma totally loves it when men take charge.” Poe soothes his offended friend.

“She's going to kick me in the balls tomorrow, isn't she?” Finn says.

“Yep, so wear a cup.” Rey grins. She turns to Poe. “Fine. The longer we stay out here, the longer my candy isn't being eaten by me. What's the lame dare?”

“Excellent.” He rubs his palms gleefully. “Go inside, up the stairs, find Ben’s room…”

“Then what?” She huffs, crossing her arms. “Steal something to prove I was there?”

“And violate the sanctity of a dead kid's room? You're cold, Rey. No.” He shakes his head. “Selfie on his bed. Lying down, head on his pillow. Under the covers optional.”

“That's it?”

“Easy, right?”

She shivers because a breeze has picked up. Not due to the hairs standing on end at the base of her neck. “Yeah, easy peasy. Hold my bag. I know how much it weighs, so if one piece goes missing…” She raises a fist and waves it threateningly.

It takes her a few moments to shimmy through the gate and then she's on the other side, looking braver than she feels. During the day, the estate is cheery. At night, it looms large and foreboding. Shadows at every corner and if she had looked up to the windows, the rustle of a curtain being drawn.

\---

Inside isn't so bad, she tells herself. She's been here before. It hadn't been scary at all. Nope.

Still, she's creeping toward the grand staircase on her toes, wincing at every groan of hardwood. “Up the stairs, in his room, on the bed,” she chants under her breath.

She fumbles for the flashlight app on her phone and nearly screams when the light casts a shadow on the wall. “It's just a post from the staircase. Get a grip,” she says to her beating-too-fast heart. “Up the stairs, in his room, on the bed.”

When she crests the second floor, she's sweating and shaking. The hallway leading to the bedrooms stretches to a faraway point.

_Ben! Stop. Calm down._

_Get away from me!_

She's hearing things. That's all. The tragedy has nested in her mind and she's projecting. Her runaway imagination is playing tricks on her.

_Don't touch me!_

_Ben! Watch out! Ben!_

She's not going to run. “Find his room, on the bed. Simple. Easy. Find his room, on the bed.”

_My baby, my baby…_

“Find his room. On the bed. Find his room. On the bed.” She doesn't realize that she's closed her eyes until she runs into a door. The scream lodges in her throat and she's almost in full flight mode. The door creaks open…

...and she's amazed by what's behind it.

The room is painted in a grassy green and the ceiling is of the night sky. Glow in the dark stars decorate its surface and she recognizes the constellations in wonder. On the far wall, floor to ceiling shelves are stuffed to the brim with books and models of spacecraft.

She steps inside and regrets it. There's something wrong with this room. She feels it deep in her bones. The shadows bleed and ooze out of the corners. Slither down to the floor toward her. She takes a half-step back and then remembers her phone. The light shines and like a ward to protect from evil, dispels the creeping darkness.

The bed is queen sized and boasts stars on its comforter. “On the bed,” she whispers. “Then you can get the fuck outta here.”

_Language!_

“I've said worse,” she chides as she sits primly on the mattress. “Have you ever taken a selfie?”

The room is quiet as she lies on her back.

“Stupid question,” she snorts. “You didn't have cell phones with cameras back then.” She rolls on her side, facing the wall. “I'm just going to take a quick picture of me on your bed. But I can't do it with the flashlight, so I'd appreciate the creepy dark stuff to not creep me the fuck out.”

_He's not my friend._

“Whatever. Tell him to keep that shit to himself.”

She takes a brave breath and closes the app. The shadows return, but stay within the corners. “Thanks. Ready?” She holds up the camera, making sure to get herself in frame, plasters her sunniest smile and snaps the shot. “Cool. Well, uh, I'm just going to…”

_Stay with me until I fall asleep._

She would have. Maybe. If she hadn't felt a cold touch brush across her cheek. The oppressive wrongness of the room returns and she's up and running as if the ceiling would fall on her.

\---

Rey doesn't know why she lies to her friends, sacrificing half her haul, even when proof of her completion of the dare sits in her phone's gallery.

Under the covers of her bed, she taps the gallery and then the picture with shaking fingers. She gasps.

On the image, her grin is large and toothy. Lying next to her, a boy long dead smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
